


Very Fucking Bad Day

by RobberBaroness



Category: Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad Day - Judith Viorst, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Crack, Fallout Kink Meme, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Courier has had a terrible, horrible, no good very fucking bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Very Fucking Bad Day

I went to sleep with a bottle of whisky and now I have a hangover and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped over Rex and by mistake I dropped my leather armor in the bath, quite possibly ruining the damn thing, and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very fucking bad day.

At breakfast Cass found a Blue Star on her bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla and Boone found a usable cap on his bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla but in my bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla all I found was shitty Sunset Sarsaparilla.

I think I’ll move to the Capital Wasteland.

We tried to ride on trained Brahmins instead of walking today, but we only had three. Veronica got to ride on a Brahmin. Arcade and Cass got to ride on ones too. I said my feet hurt. I said I was tired. I said I was the goddamn savior of the world and they’d better let me fucking ride. They all just laughed.

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very fucking bad day.

At NCR Headquarters, Colonel Moore liked Boone’s sniper perfomance better than my suggestion of diplomacy.

At infiltration practice, she said I crept too loud. At target practice, she said I missed the throat. Who needs the throat?

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very fucking bad day.

I could tell because Cass said I wasn’t her favorite drinking partner anymore. She said that Boone was her favorite drinking partner and that Veronica was her second favorite drinking partner and I was only her third favorite drinking partner.

I hope you get a hangover, I said to Cass. I hope the next time you order a Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against the Wall the gin spills out and lands in the Capital Wasteland.

There were seven stimpacks in Arcade’s backpack and Boone had a Doctor’s Bag and Veronica had two boxes of Mentats. Guess who forgot to bring their drugs with them this morning?

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very fucking bad day.

That’s what it was, because I got shot in the foot and Arcade said he’d have to surgically remove the bullet. Don’t be such a baby about this, said Arcade. One more unnecessary operation, I said, and I’m moving to the Capital Wasteland.

Afterwards a molerat bit me and Veronica tired to punch me playfully with her Displacer Glove and then when I started shouting because of the fucking Displacer Glove Veronica thought I was pretending and when I tried to yank it off her fist Lily scolded me for playing rough with girls.

I am having a terrible, horrible, no good, very fucking bad day, I told everybody. They just tried not to roll their eyes.

So then we went to the Gun Runners to get some new supplies. Arcade got a better Plasma Pistol. Boone got a Sniper Rifle. I asked for a Riot Shotgun, but the robot said they were all sold out. I had to buy a Sawed Off Shotgun, but I can’t imagine the thing working.

When we visited the Brotherhood of Steel at their bunker they said I couldn’t try on the power armor, but I forgot. They also said to be careful around the grenades, and I was as careful as could be except for my elbow. They also said don’t fool around with their radio equipment but I think I sent a broadcast to the Capital Wasteland. The Brotherhood of Steel said please don’t visit anymore.

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very fucking bad day.

There was Cram for dinner and I hate Cram.

There was a standup comedy routine at The Tops and I hate standup comedy.

My pip boy overheated, ED-E bumped into my head, I lost a couple bullets down the drain, and Lily wanted me to wear her grandson's railroad train pajamas to bed. I barely even know what trains are.

When I went to bed Cass took back the whisky she said I could keep and the Lucky 38's lightbulbs started breaking down and I even fucking bit my tongue.

Rex wants to sleep with Veronica, not me.

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very fucking bad day.

Arcade kissed me on the cheek, though, and said he'd had days like that.

Even in the Capital Wasteland.


End file.
